I bent low, trembling from weakness, until my lips were close to her ear.
"Eloise," I whispered softly, forgetting at the awful moment that she possessed another name, "it has been voted that three of us perish by torture, but you are not in the list; you are named for a different fate.

Is it still your wish that I fulfil the pledge ?" As she glanced up, the old war-chief pointed directly toward her.

I could perceive the baleful gleam of his eyes, and noted with what quick aversion she shrank back until her shoulder pressed my own.
"Yes, Geoffrey Benteen," she made immediate, resolute answer.

"It will be mercy.

I beg you strike." "You forgive the blow ?" "Forgive!" An instant her clear eyes, unfrightened, looked directly into mine, a message in their depths I had never seen there before.
"More, I love the heart and hand which speed it." My hands were bound tightly together, but my arms remained free, the hilt of the knife resting firmly between the palms.